Chapter 2

Emma screamed with pleasure into his mouth. Her legs were bent back to her shoulders and her pelvis was arched up to receive him as deeply as possible. She felt his balls delicately land on her upturned asscheeks and the bony ring around the base of his cock pressed into her stretched labia. She felt as if his glans was embedding itself in her stomach. She felt as if his cock was possessing her.

She felt totally his.

When she finally stopped screaming, she murmured, “Do me, lover!”

“Fillerup?”

Before she could answer, he began pumping in and out of her. Slowly, at first, then with fast strokes, he worked his big meat in her convulsing cunt. She could feel the juice squirting out of her with each withdrawal, feel the pressure building inside her tummy with each insertion. Her orgasms became nearly constant, varying only in their intensity. Emma was going from pleasure plateau to pleasure peak and back again, over and over, faster and faster.

His thrusts took on more urgency and she felt his prick swelling even more inside her, testing the containment of her tight, clenching cunt.

“Cum in me,” she growled, her voice throaty with lust. “Yes!” She tried to pull him deeper into her, to squeeze and suck him with her twat.

“Yeah, baby!” he groaned. “Cumming!”

She could feel the surge swell the length of his prick and then he was jammed to the bone inside her, moaning with release as he poured in her. Feeling his throbs, hearing his rumble of pleasure, her love and passion became ungovernable. She thrashed up at him and came even harder as he impaled her with his spurting cock.

Just as she felt his balls stop their jerking where they lay in the shallow furrow of her ass, he raised himself on trembling arms. She pulled her legs back and wider, free of his arms, as he knelt up. His cock had lost its stiffness and was slowly shriveling inside her. She loved that feeling -- his juices mixed with hers, deep in her belly, and her wonderful husband’s penis resting peacefully inside her.

She raised her legs straight up and pulled them together, then slowly lowered to one side. He bent enough to get one forearm under her butt and hoisted her 94 pounds -- same as when they’d met -- off the bed. Keeping their genitals joined, Jake rolled onto his back and drew her with him in a graceful pas de deux of pleasure and tenderness, they came to rest with her stretched atop his larger frame, her face resting against the hairs of his chest.

She hugged him with her cunt and welcomed his soft moan of pleasure. He kissed the top of her head. She kissed his chest. Some of the sparse hairs there were just beginning to turn silvery, so she kissed through them again.

“I love you, Betty.”

“I love you, Anton.”

His arms were around her. He had one hand caressing her back, between her shoulder blades. The other was resting on her butt. She felt his finger move to her slick anus and gently probe. She groaned and pressed down against him.

“So that was what got milady’s motor running, huh? That letter take you back to the good ol’ days?”

“Your good ol’ days were better than mind,” she said. “You were the one who went to high school and college during the sexual revolution.”

“I heard about it,” he said. He chuckled. “It was in all the papers. But the free love didn’t apply to the kids going to the schools I went to.” He was almost ten years older than she was. She’d asked him about those times -- times she barely remembered -- when she’d been too young and too sheltered to really know what was going on. “You had some pretty wild times in college, though. That letter bring back memories?”

“Um-hmm.” She nestled closer -- if that was possible -- and again clenched her cunt around him. “I like these times better, though. That’s why I married you. The company I’m keeping means more to me than what we do.”

“Or don’t.” His tone was rueful.

“Oh, that’s okay, honey. Your finger feels good enough to me.”

Emma and Jake didn’t have secrets; they were too close for that. She’d told him about some of her adventures in college. It had come out while she’d explained her breakup with the fellow student to whom she’d been engaged. It had seemed a perfect match. Johnny had come from the same sort of family and background as she had. He was a music major -- he played the violin beautifully -- a gymnast and a cheerleader. She was a dance major, a gymnast and a cheerleader. They shared many, many interests -- music, art, books -- and they had fantastic sex -- even wild sex. They’d had threesomes, foursomes, orgies. While she was with Johnny, she learned that every so often, nothing in the world got her off so much as getting her narrow little asshole crammed full of hard, hot cock.